


Priorities

by triste



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 09:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3115442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I hate winter,” Koumei says mournfully, like he’s revealing a piece of brand new information and not something Alibaba has already heard a hundred times before. “It’s too cold to do anything.”</p><p>“You say the exact same thing about summer,” Alibaba points out, “except that it’s too hot for you to do anything.”</p><p>“Yes,” Koumei agrees, with a solemn nod. “I hate summer too.”</p><p>“So you’re only functional for six months of the year?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Priorities

Title: Priorities  
Author: Triste  
Fandom: Magi  
Pairing: Koumei/Alibaba  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: Modern day AU  
Status: Complete  
Disclaimer: Not mine

Someday I will write an AU where Alibaba is not a poor, abused waifu. Today is not that day. Also, Koumei can be even more of a pain in the ass than Kouen sometimes. Being Alibaba is suffering.

~~

If there’s one thing Alibaba can’t stand, it’s wastefulness. It’s a result of having grown up poor, of having to save whatever he can from supermarket coupons to energy for utilities. Koumei calls it being a miser. Alibaba calls it doing his bit to help protect the environment (and by extension, his bank balance). It feels like all he ever does is shut off whatever Koumei isn’t currently using (the TV, his laptop, the light in an empty room), so it’s really no surprise when he finds the kotatsu still on even though there’s nobody in need of it.

Alibaba sighs as he reaches for the switch, thinking about how they might as well be throwing money down the drain when bone white fingers clamp around his wrist, and if that doesn’t make him scream, the disembodied voice that floats out most definitely does.

“Don’t do that,” it warns.

It’s not a vengeful spirit that crawls out from underneath the blanket, however, but Koumei, looking like a bushier version of Sadako from The Ring. He peers at Alibaba through the bird’s nest he calls hair, notices that he’s trying very hard not to have a heart attack, and slowly relaxes his death grip.

“I suppose I’d better make some tea.”

He returns a short time later with a pot and two cups, pouring Alibaba a drink first before seeing to his own. He inhales its scent, takes a sip and then, at long last, acknowledges Alibaba’s scowl.

“You seem displeased.”

“Well, duh,” Alibaba retorts. “I thought a ghost was about to possess me.” Then he shakes his head. “Wait, no, that’s not the point. Stop trying to distract me.”

Koumei feigns innocence by raising an eyebrow, as if to say ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about’ when really he knows exactly what Alibaba is getting onto his case for.

“First of all,” Alibaba begins, “how many times have I told you not to fall asleep under the kotatsu? If you’re going to sleep, then do it in bed where it costs nothing to keep warm. Secondly, and more importantly, you can’t just lie around the house all day!”

“Why not?” Koumei asks, in total seriousness.

“You just can’t,” Alibaba repeats firmly. “I know it’s winter, and it’s cold, but you need to get some fresh air once in a while. Why don’t you visit your brothers or something?”

Koumei shakes his head, expression haunted. “I’m not going outside. This is the time of year when human beings are even more contagious than usual. It’s far too dangerous. My immune system can’t handle any exposure to their germs.”

He has a point. He usually seems to catch at least three or four colds during the winter months, and it takes him longer to recover from them than a regular person. It’s about the only reason Kouen allows him to work from home (and because it’s less of a hassle than physically forcing Koumei through his own front door and dragging him to the office).

Alibaba, on the other hand, is perfectly healthy, apart from being more susceptible to hangovers than most people, so it’s difficult for him to understand Koumei when he’s being like this.

It doesn’t stop him from nagging though.

“I hate winter,” Koumei says mournfully, like he’s revealing a piece of brand new information and not something Alibaba has already heard a hundred times before. “It’s too cold to do anything.”

“You say the exact same thing about summer,” Alibaba points out, “except that it’s too hot for you to do anything.”

“Yes,” Koumei agrees, with a solemn nod. “I hate summer too.”

“So you’re only functional for six months of the year?”

“Precisely. It’s as if I’m only living half a life.” Koumei puts on his ‘please pity me’ face. Unfortunately for him, Alibaba has long since developed immunity to it. “Still,” Koumei continues, “it’s fine, really, as long as I have my computer and my pigeons. That’s all I need to be content.” Then he pauses. “And you, of course,” he adds, belatedly.

Most other people would probably be offended, but Alibaba is too used to Koumei by now to get upset. “I’m only third on your list of priorities, huh.”

Koumei does what any other man would do in his position. He simply smiles and says, “I love you.” Then he decides to push his luck a little. “I’d love you even more if you ran a bath for me.”

“Only if you come to the supermarket with me tomorrow,” Alibaba says. “We’re low on rice, so I’ll need someone to help carry it back.”

“In that case, forget about the bath. I’ll go to bed instead.”

Alibaba catches Koumei’s sleeve before he can slink away. “Oh no you don’t. Now take your damn bath.”

But not before they get into the same argument they seem to have every week, where Koumei points out that it would be far easier to just get whatever they need brought to them, without even having to leave the house, to which Alibaba counters that it would be a waste of money to pay extra for the delivery charge, before finally concluding with the usual insults of “lazy” and “stingy” as Alibaba goes off to run Koumei his bath.

It’s not like they’re really fighting, because that would require actual effort from Koumei’s side, and it’s not like Alibaba is all that angry with him anyway, because he’s always had a soft spot for weak, pathetic things, like babies and kittens, and Koumei might as well just be a big, shaggy cat for him to take care of, but Alibaba likes cute things too, so it’s okay.

It’s why he blow-dries Koumei’s hair for him afterwards, because the blissed out expression Koumei gets when he does is amusing, and that’s even before his hair starts to take on epic, afro-sized proportions, but it’s funny, so Alibaba won’t nag him right now because he knows he’ll have to unblock the sink yet again to unclog Koumei’s hair from it.

Alibaba goes to bed first while Koumei makes another cup of tea, not because he’s tired or anything, but because Koumei always waits for him to warm the sheets sufficiently before joining him. 

Then, when Alibaba calls out to him, Koumei puts on a rare display of speed as he darts from the living room and into the bedroom, shrugging out of his clothes in record time and then diving under the sheets.

He always insists on sleeping naked (it’s better to share warmth that way), curling himself around Alibaba and shivering fitfully until he’s absorbed enough body heat to heave a happy sigh.

“Human hot water bottles are the best,” he declares.

“That’s all I am to you, is it?” asks Alibaba. “An organic heating device?”

Koumei smiles at him through the darkness and says, “I love you.”

“Say it when you mean it,” Alibaba advises, pinching Koumei’s cheek, “and not when you’re using it as an excuse.”

“But I do,” Koumei says. “I love you as much as I love my kotatsu. I’ll prove it to both of you. In the morning, when all three of us will make love.”

“You never have any energy that early in the day,” Alibaba reminds him. “And wait, the kotatsu is a person now? Never mind,” he adds, before Koumei can open his mouth. “Just shut up and go to sleep.”


End file.
